


Teamwork

by Seascribe



Category: due South
Genre: Blowjobs, Comment Fic, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:10:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1266046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/pseuds/Seascribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser gives Ray a pained look over Vecchio's head.  "I really am very sorry about your car's unfortunate demise," he says, coming over to stand beside the couch.  "As is Ray, of course.  Are you sure there's nothing we can do to make it up to you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teamwork

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick little thing that I wrote for Scribe because she's on a major OT3 kick these days. The prompt was for two of them teaming up on the third.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not talking to you," Vecchio says, cranking the volume up on the tv. Ray grits his teeth. 

"I dunno, how many times do I have to tell you it was _an accident_ that the Riv got stuck in that car compactor," he says. "C'mon, I got tickets to the Bulls game tomorrow night, and you're still not talking to me?"

"Nope," Vecchio says. "Take Fraser." 

"We have three tickets," Fraser chimes in, sticking his head in from the kitchen. "Are you sure you don't want to go? Ray and I have been looking forward to it." 

"Yeah, well I was looking forward to driving my car," Vecchio grouses. 

Fraser gives Ray a pained look over Vecchio's head. "I really am very sorry about your car's unfortunate demise," he says, coming over to stand beside the couch. "As is Ray, of course. Are you sure there's nothing we can do to make it up to you?" 

"Positive," Vecchio says. 

Ray knows a challenge when he hears one. He raises his eyebrows at Fraser. The Bulls tickets had been his idea--and Ray does not for one second believe that there wasn't some kind of interior motive there--but Ray's got plenty of ideas of his own. He reaches over and puts his hand on Vecchio's thigh, running his thumb lightly over the front of Vecchio's slacks. 

"Nothing at all?" Ray asks, and Vecchio sucks in a shuddery breath. "'Cause I was thinking…" He trails off, flicking open the button of Vecchio's slacks and sliding his fingers under the waistband of his boxers. Fraser, right on cue, drops to his knees in front of them. "Maybe something like this?" Fraser's got his forearms braced on Vecchio's thighs, leaning in so that Ray can feel his breath on his fingers as he gets Vecchio out of his boxers, and pulls back to let Fraser do his thing. 

Vecchio groans, squirming desperately under Fraser's mouth, and Ray kisses him, hard and wet and filthy, and from down there between Vecchio's legs, Fraser makes an approving noise. 

Vecchio makes a noise too, like probably he would be yelling _fuck!_ or Fraser's name or something, if only his tongue wasn't in Ray's mouth. Ray hums back and slides his hand up under Vecchio's shirt, smoothing his fingertips over Vecchio's chest and twisting real lightly at his nipples. That makes him whimper against Ray's mouth. 

"So, you still not talking to us, Vecchio?" Ray asks, and Fraser pulls off of Vecchio's dick with a slick pop, looking up at him with a politely interested expression on his face. 

"Nnnngh," Vecchio says, his fingers digging into the fabric of the couch cushions. 

"I didn't quite catch that," Fraser says, and blows a little encouraging stream of air over the head of Vecchio's dick. Vecchio shudders all over and gasps out a whole bunch more of those desperate non-words, but Fraser just waits. 

"C'mon, Vecchio," Ray says encouragingly, tangling his fingers with Vecchio's, his forehead pressed up against Vecchio's temple. 

"Yeah," Vecchio groans. "I mean, no, I--whatever you guys want, okay, just come on, Fraser, _please_ \--" and Fraser takes pity on him and swallows him back down. Vecchio keeps up a stream of desperate babble after that-- _god_ and _please_ and _Fraser_ \--like he's afraid if he shuts up, Fraser might stop again. Ray grins against Vecchio's jaw before he gets back to his job, teasing all of Vecchio's hot spots with his fingers and lips as Fraser gets him off. 

Vecchio goes quiet when he comes, like he's run out of noise to make, nothing left but the harsh sound of his breathing as his hips come up off the sofa and he spills down Fraser's throat. Ray presses up real close beside Vecchio, so he can feel the after-shocks running through him, and kisses the corner of his mouth. Fraser lets out a happy little sound of his own and crawls up onto the couch beside them.

"It's just--I loved that car," Vecchio says softly after a while.

"I know, Ray," Fraser says, curling his hand around Vecchio's hip. "But I'm sure we'll be able to find you another one someday." 

Vecchio lets out a little disbelieving snort. 

"Maybe, maybe not," Ray says. "But hey, if you're real good, I'll make you a copy of the key to the GTO." 

For once in his life, Vecchio doesn't have anything snarky to say about the Goat, and he gives Ray a weirdly shy, surprised smile. 

"That'd be cool," he mumbles. "Thanks, Stanley."


End file.
